


safe and sure forever and ever

by TheYellowTurtle



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYellowTurtle/pseuds/TheYellowTurtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyungsoo only wants one thing. His guardian is more than eager to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	safe and sure forever and ever

**Author's Note:**

> I posted half of this before when I thought I would throw in some ChanSoo, but then I realized ChanSoo was unnecessary in a fic where KaiSoo isn't even properly developed... 0.0
> 
> The title comes from "Lovesong" by Ted Hughes. 
> 
> Warning: suicide, cussing, kinda smut, emotional abuse, unbetaed and things getting trippy/horror-ish at the end. 
> 
> Crossposted on my tumblr: theotherhalfofawesome --> not a link because I don't have skills T-T

** Day 3225 **

 

“Should I do it?” I question, staring into the depths of your gleaming eyes. They are gold…and emotionless like always. “Should I…do it?” I slowly repeat myself, pressing the cool metal against my wrist, a little bit harder and it would break the skin. 

 

Your form is masculine today, your hair shaggy and long, the bags around your eyes sunken in. You remind me of rockers past. The lights flashing as they screamed into a microphone trying to simultaneously convey and relieve themselves of the demons that pulled them into the darkness when they were alone. You remind me of death. 

 

“What do you want?” you finally answer, but your lips aren’t curled into a smile like they so often are when you ask that question. “What do you want, Kyungsoo?” I can never tell when you are mocking me.

 

Biting my cracked lips, I swallow the lump in my throat. “Are you asking if I want life or if I want death?”

 

You walk towards me and reach out your hand to caress my cheek. “No, silly Kyungsoo, I’m asking what way you want to die.” Your thumb finds its way down to my lips and quickly rubs over them once before you smile to yourself. “I love you, you know,” your breath is cool on my face, “I want you to make the choice that’s best for you.”

 

I don't move, my heart is thudding in my ears. “You love me too, Kyungsoo, right?” you whisper in my ear as you slide your hands onto my shoulders. Your eyes seem to flicker. 

 

“Yes. Yes, I love you, too.”

 

***

 

** Day 1019 **

 

 

“What do you want?” You smiled, playing with your angeled bangs. I swallowed, clutching the mic in my sweaty palm. The way the tight black tank you were wearing moved with your perfectly toned frame was a nice distraction. As if you could read my mind, your arm’s flexed.

 

“Kyungsoo, what do you want? Do you want me out there with you or not?”  Your tone was high-pitched today. The airy tone reminded me of one of the sunbae’s that was due to perform later in the evening with their group. If I was lucky I’d be able to watch them accept the winning trophy later. 

 

I laughed a little trying to calm my nerves. “I’ll be fine by myself. I don’t need you today…I’ve been preparing for this debut for almost three years…I’ll be ok.” 

 

Your golden eyes seemed to glow. “If you say so,” your cold hands rubbed my shoulders, “I’ll be watching.” 

 

Nodding, I watched you begin to walk away before you suddenly pivoted on your heel. “Kyungsoo!”

 

“Yeah?” I could hear the blood rushing. “Don’t fuck up!” you called, a smile on your lips. My heart stopped. I didn’t know that look, but I found myself closing my eyes and patting my cheeks. By the time I opened my eyes you were gone and one of the assistants was leading me onto stage.

 

I can briefly remember finding a name card in the sea of people, the flutter in my heart and the small smile it brought to my lips. However, what I remember in pristine detail about my debut is opening my mouth to sing and nothing coming out. I remember bowing and asking for another chance. I remember the sighs of the staff and the look my manager gave me off stage. I remember my body freezing and the few words I managed to croak out during my second chance. I remember relying on the backtrack. I remember doing something that no respectable ballad singer would do. I remember fucking up. That’s what I remember about my debut. 

 

When I stumbled off stage, shoulders slumped, I looked up and met your eyes. You smiled. 

 

 

***

 

** Day 1293 **

 

 

You smiled, flicking your wavy brown locks over your shoulder. Your lipstick was bright red and your perfume was the scent of cherry blossoms. It didn’t match your blue sequined outfit. I had told you this, but you simply shrugged claiming that matching wasn’t the point. ‘You have to make sure they only have eyes for you,’ you had whispered in my ear. 

 

You were taller than me in your six inch heels, so you had to bend over to tell me such things. I forced my eyes to stay on your crimson lips and not your enticing cleavage. 

 

My name was eventually called and I found my way onto stage. The sound of your heels clicking behind me kept my hands from shaking. 

 

My self-introduction was nothing noteworthy, just a simple bow, name and thanks. The audience seemed endless with the stage lights blinding me, it was impossible to see where the judges of the night ended, let alone the legend. My heart began to pound in my ears.

 

“Kyungsoo,” your head rested on my shoulder, “remember what you want. I will claim it for you.” Your breath sent shivers down my spine, but my chest had calmed. 

 

I want to win. I want to win. I want to win.

 

I opened my mouth and began to sing. Your arms wrapped around my waist and stayed there. It was ok. They couldn’t see you, but I could. 

 

The lights shone upon me at the end of the night; I was the winner. My manager would later congratulate me on my win, but it wasn’t mine. It was ours.

 

 

***

 

** Day 1468 **

 

 

The first time I saw Kim Jongin he wasn’t alone and I’m not referring to his fellow band member. I frowned staring at the monitor. The hosts had introduced the two almost identical boys as a debuting duo and the rest of their backup dancers were male, but there she was with shining silver eyes, her hands ghosting over his figure. 

 

She never touched him nor interacted with any of the other performers onstage; she was simply his shadow following him wherever he went and lightly mimicking the moves he was doing. She smiled while doing so, dimples deep in her cheeks. I forced myself to look away; the smile was far too genuine. 

 

Hearing a sharp inhale, I turned to find you glaring at the monitor. You were a small female with a high ponytail, plump cheeks and monolids; your outfit was some disaster I would be incapable of describing. 

 

“What is it?” I questioned, turning back to the monitor. 

 

You crossed your arms. “That, that thing is an imitation of what I am. A weak imitation, but a copy nonetheless. You’ll find them from time to time, usually clinging to some fool in the background.”

 

“There’s more of you?” You shook your head in response, taking my hand in yours. 

 

“I’m one of a kind, Kyungsoo. Don’t worry too much. That leech is a weak pest, it may give that boy some pizazz when he’s on stage, but it’s nothing more than that.  That thing is incapable of giving him what he wants,” your wrapped your arms around my waist, “Not like I can give you what you want. They want what we have.”

 

I found myself nodding as the two boys made their way offstage, bowing to anyone and everyone. Their manager has them stop in front of me and introduce themselves, despite being from the same company I've never interacted with them. I never had the time nor interest to get to know the trainees. 

 

The one with dyed blonde hair was Lee Taemin. The one that was no longer accompanied by silver eyes was Kim Jongin. 

 

Taemin as the leader of the group says something to me about supporting them, their album, just how much he admired me for debuting at such a young age, how he absolutely adores that one song on my first full length album, but it was nothing except background noise as I watched a blush on Kim Jongin’s cheeks form when I caught one of his many gazes. His hair looked so soft to touch, not yet ruined by endless dye jobs. 

 

Feeling Taemin’s gaze on me, I pried my eyes away from the younger and thanked him for his support and watched them walk away, off to their next schedule. Well, not them exactly. It was more of me watching him: Kim Jongin. 

 

 

***

 

** Day 1593  **

 

 

“Hyung,” the gentle baritone made me look up from the sheet music I was studying. Grinning at him, I put the sheets off to the side and patted the seat on the couch next to me; he quickly obliged. 

 

“I thought I told you to call me, Kyungsoo. There’s no need to use formal language around me.” Jongin flushed at my words, making it impossible for me to stop smiling. Surreptitiously scooting closer to him until our thighs were touching, I watched him fiddle with his fingers. He was so adorable; I wanted to take him home with me. Not in a sexual way, but to just cuddle with him…with the possibility of someone watching eliminated; it would just be the two us. I could take care of him, protect him. 

 

I wasn’t sure how, but somehow in a matter of months Kim Jongin had forced himself into my heart. Watching him look at me with complete devotion, I realized he probably did so with every smile he went my direction. 

 

“How are preparations for your comeback going?” he questioned, tilting his head. 

 

Groaning, I leaned back against the sofa. “Could be better. It’s a love song and I can’t get the feel right.”

 

“Can you sing it for me?” I rolled my head to the side, observing him, before nodding. “I guess,” I offered and sat up straight preparing myself. 

 

"I lost my mind the moment I saw you. Except you, everything get in slow mo-“ I began to sing, but stopped when Jongin grasped my arm. Brows furrowed, I stared at him. “What, Jongin?”

 

“You seemed nervous,” he licked his lips, “umm, maybe you just need to think of someone when singing the song…like umm someone you feel that way about,” he let go of my arm, his eyes straying to the floor. 

 

“Like you?” I’m not sure what came over me that moment, the sudden burst of courage that I hadn’t felt in years. 

 

Jongin lifted his head slowly, gaping at me. “K-Kyungsoo? Umm…I umm.” I pressed my lips to his before he could stumble over any more words. I began to retreat a few seconds later, only to be stopped by his hand running hair and pressing me even closer. 

 

I smiled. 

 

 

***

 

** Day 1631 **

 

 

I could see your golden eyes watching me through the mirror as I fixed my hair; Jongin and I were sneaking out tonight to go see a movie together. You weren’t smiling like usual, your brows were furrowed and your plump lips of the day were pursed. Your elegant appearance - perfectly styled long, straight brown hair, piercing, eyeliner-rimmed eyes and a tight, one-shouldered dress- only seemed to emphasize this. 

 

“You need to be careful, Kyungsoo. That boy can easily get in the way of what you want.” I paused at your words, finally done fussing with my hair. “And why is that?” I asked spinning on my heel to face you. 

 

You smiled, crossing your legs. “That boy has one of us. Sure, it’s a knockoff compared to me, but he has one nonetheless.”

 

“You told me that it just gives him a little boost, some more oomph when he’s performing. Why should I worry about that?” 

 

You stood up from the leather armchair and sauntered over to me. “Because Kyungsoo, those things never want to remain silver,” you leaned into my ear, “they want to be gold.” 

 

You pulled back with a smile. “Keep that in mind, Kyungsoo.”

 

My cell began to vibrate in my pocket. 

 

You frowned for a moment before returning to your usual smile. “Run off now, Kyungsoo, but don’t forget my words.” 

 

 

***

 

** Day 1842 **

 

 

“Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo,” he smiled into my ear, each call of my name making my heart beat faster and faster. His head was resting on my bare chest, his legs entwined with mine and arms wrapped around my abdomen as I thread my hands through his soft hair. 

 

“Jongin, Jongin, Jongin,” I called causing him to lift his head and quickly peck my cheek. I blushed despite myself. 

 

“Kyungsoo,” his hand rubbed above my hips absentmindedly, “do you…” he paused, furrowing his head into my stomach in seeming embarrassment. 

 

“What?” I chuckled because of his cuteness and the tickling sensation of his breath. “What, Jongin?” 

 

He peered up at me, his bangs curtaining his warm eyes. “In the future, if…if we are still together and umm maybe after we’re done being idols…y’know that doesn’t last forever…umm with me…with me, do you want to raise a dog?”

 

I remember staring at him, gaping in awe before my lips curled into a smile. “You want to raise a dog with me?”

 

He blushed at my words, but continued to gaze at me with the warmest of emotions in his eyes. “Mmm, I want to raise a dog with you someday. W-well, if you like dogs that is. Wait. Are you allergic? W-we don’t have to get dog if you don’t want to, but there are hypoallengic breeds. They have like human hair or someth-“

 

“Ok,” I sang, interrupting his rambling. 

 

“Really?!” He sprung up from my grasp, the falling sheets leaving nothing to imagination. I forced the memory of earlier from my mind and focussed on his beautiful smile.

 

“Yeah,” I laughed, “Let’s raise a dog together someday.”

 

His plush lips quickly found mine before he went on to explain what type of breed we should get (something small), what we should name it (something adorable), and how much we should love it (a member of the family). I couldn’t completely focus on his words though. I was far too busy smiling to myself, musing over the possible translations, complications, meanings of raising a dog together. 

 

I want to be with you.

 

Let’s stay together for a long time. 

 

And most importantly: I love you. 

 

I wasn’t brave enough to say it, but looking back that’s the only thing it could have meant. He loved me and wanted to know if I felt the same. 

 

 

***

 

** Day 2003 **

 

 

My eyes were closed from the pleasure gripping my cock, moans escaping my lips every time he sank back down. I gripped his hips, the warm flesh intoxicating in my hands. Hearing a particularly loud whine from Jongin above me, I snapped my eyes open only freeze.

 

She was there. 

 

The bitch with silver eyes. 

 

I glared at the figure sitting behind Jongin, ceasing my upward thrusts. She wasn’t touching him, but her mouth was slowly moving, whispering something into Jongin’s ear that he probably couldn’t hear. 

 

“Those things never want to remain silver, they want to be gold,” you had warned me, but I didn’t listen. I thought for once I wouldn’t have to listen to you, that you would be wrong. 

 

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin called, he had stopped moving, choosing to stare at me with confused eyes. My reply was pushing him off of me, sitting up with my jaw clenched. The silver eyes were no longer there. 

 

“How could you, Jongin?! How could you use me on your quest for fame?!” I was hyperventilating as he looked at me with tears in his eyes. 

 

“Kyungsoo, that’s not true, I lo-“

 

“Get out, Jongin!” 

 

He didn’t move. “Get the fuck out, Jongin!” I screamed, pushing him away from me. 

 

He looked at me one last time, reaching out a hand, “Kyungsoo, I…”

 

I slapped it away, slipping out of my bed and backing away from him. “Leave! Fucking leave!”

 

He listened that time, tears rushing down his face.

 

 

***

 

** Day 2010 **

 

 

“What do you want?” you murmured in my ear. 

 

“I want it to stop hurting,” I replied. 

 

Your arms tightened around me under the warm sheets. “Just remember one thing, Kyungsoo. I love you. That means I want what you want, that I will never betray you. I will always be with you no matter what.” You kissed my cheek and snuggled into my neck. 

 

“I want to be happy,” I confessed with a whisper. 

 

You chuckled. “And that’s possible, despite what others might tell you. Normal people like to pretend that people like us are miserable; it’s the only way they can survive their meager lives. Do you know what would happen if every article, tv show, book and movie involving the famous was only about our happiness? They would go insane, Kyungsoo, insane. They would drive themselves mad wanting what we have.”

 

I hummed, shutting my eyes. 

 

“Don’t worry, Kyungsoo. I love you.” 

 

I allowed myself to believe you.

 

 

***

 

** Day 2367 **

 

 

‘Smile,’ you commented. I smiled. 

 

‘Laugh,’ you mentioned. I laughed. 

 

‘Sing that song,’ you suggested. I sang it. 

 

‘Audition for that drama,’ you told me. I auditioned for it. 

 

‘Give me what I want,’ I commanded. You gave me what I wanted. 

'

 

***

 

** Day 2549 **

 

 

You rubbed my shoulders, digging the heels of your palms into it. I kept my eyes on my lap, fidgeting with the leather cord bracelet on my wrist. Your touch was cold. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter if you were cold, warm or just right; you weren’t who I wanted. 

 

“Kyungsoo, what do you want?” you whispered in my ear. 

 

“You know what I want, what I wanted, and you know I can’t have it,” I pushed your hands off my shoulders and returned to staring at my lap. 

 

“Are you sure about that?” I flinched at the sound of your voice, the tone so familiar when it wasn’t coming from you. Turning, I gaped at the familiar form. The black hair, the crinkled eyes and the bashful smile; you even had his favorite cap on. 

 

“Kyungsoo,” you- he leaned forward, invading my personal space, “you want me, right?” 

 

Frozen, I nodded a blush forming on my cheeks. 

 

“Great! I want you, too, Kyungsoo,” he pulled me further onto the bed, the mattress creaking under the weight of both of us. I found myself resting back on my forearms, studying his form as he sat on his knees grinning at me and pulling his t-shirt over his head. Swallowing at the sight of his toned abdomen and flexing arms, I continued to watch as he began to undo his jeans. He paused when the pants were halfway down his thighs, “Kyungsoo,” he called, “I don’t want to be the only one undressed.”

 

I remember flushing at his words and quickly complying. It happened rather quickly after that. He soon had me perched on his lap, stretched, panting and clawing at his back, moaning and begging for him to get on with it. He thrusted up whenever I went down, he moaned in my ear whenever I tightened around him, he fondled my ass whenever I bit into the juncture of his neck. He did whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it. 

 

Eventually, it came to an end and I had to roll over and look at the figure that I was so recently intimately connected with. It was you. It was you and me, not me and him. 

 

 

***

 

 

** Day 2994 **

 

The TV was on mute. I didn’t care to hear myself repeat the words that I had already said. The interviewer was wearing a beige blouse, her hair, surprisingly, wasn’t dyed. She was forgettable. 

 

I watched her lean closer to the me onscreen. It wasn’t flirtatious, it was curious, admiring, maybe jealous. She had asked me about my time in Hollywood. She praised my acting, my accent, my outfits, my hair, my voice, my albums- some of which I couldn’t even remember the name of, my stature, my presence… She was so eager. 

 

Hollywood star. Hollywood actor. Hollywood, hollywood, hollywood, hollywood, hollywood. 

 

I only appeared on screen for eight minutes and forty-two seconds. 

 

 

***

 

** Day 3159 **

 

 

The online article glared at me before I slammed the laptop shut, leaning back in the desk chair. Not even all the media play from hollywood could get you an award that you never showed up to accept. I was still like the rest of them, I was still trapped in this small-minded cage. Nothing had changed. 

 

More than eight years of my life was simply dismissed because I could not attend, because my album couldn’t stay at the top of the charts as long as the rookie singer, because my movie was not the highest domestic grosser, because apparently my reign was ending, because I was only Do Kyungsoo. 

 

You hummed to gather my attention and you certainly did. The grotesque clown makeup that one too many had adorned before seemed familiar on your face. The painted red lips and skin curling into a smile was a sight made for you to portray. 

 

You grasped the arms of the chair and pulled me closer. You were especially tall that day; my eyes strained to meet your gaze. “What do you want?” you asked. 

 

“Why do you even bother to ask anymore?” I retorted, never straying from your golden eyes. 

 

“Because I love you and care about what you want, Kyungsoo,” you retracted your hands from the chair and began to play with the cufflinks of your jacket, grinning to yourself. “I think I know how to give you what you want. I know how to make them reward you when you are not even there, how to make sure they will never forget your name.”

 

“How?” I swallowed.

 

“Kill yourself.”

 

I gaped at you for a moment, my mind screaming at me, urging me to cling onto words you would never say. However, you made sense. I was declining and a tragedy could immortalize my name. 

 

Smiling at you with tears rushing down, I nodded my head in agreement. 

 

My mind was hoarse at the end of the night. 

 

 

***

 

** Day 1 **

 

 

The words came easily, seamlessly flowing through my vocal cords. I tentatively pressed the keys of the piano as I sang- at the time I could barely play chopsticks without messing up. I sang and I sang that afternoon. No one was watching, no one was listening, it was just me and the beat up school piano. I finished at some point, grinning to myself as I packed up and started the trek for home. 

 

Looking back on it, that day wasn’t special at all. It was just me fooling around, just singing. But for some reason, I can still vividly remember the sensation of singing by myself in that dusty music room. I was so happy in that room. 

 

There were no golden eyes watching. 

 

 

***

 

** Day 3225 **

 

 

“So what way?” you repeat, grasping the hand gripping the blade, “Every way has its benefits.”

 

“I’m aware,” I croak. 

 

“We could use the blade, we could open the window and fly, we could cut the gas and close the windows; we can do whatever you want.” You press a kiss to my forehead. “And there’s still the note to think about…do you want to leave behind a message?”

 

Squeezing my eyes shut, I rest my head against your shoulder. You don’t smell like anything. A tear rolls down my cheek. 

 

“A m-message would be nice.” I feel tremors travel throughout my body. You make an enlightened noise at my words and lead me to my bed. We sit on the edge of the black sheets. You rub my shoulders and I continue to cry. 

 

“What do you want it to say? You could make a statement you know; people will actually care about what you have to say,” you sing. They would actually care…what bullshit. They care about the words of the dead more than the living. I begin to laugh to myself, it pierces through the dreary silence of the empty room. I’m such a fucking mess, crying and laughing. 

 

“I know what I want it to say,” I announce between laughs. 

 

“What?” you fall before me, kneeling, pressing your hands on my knees as your golden eyes peer up in wonder.

 

I inhale, clenching the knife in my hand. 

 

The notes, the breaths, the pianos, the laughter, the smiles, the pounding in my chest, the sweaty palms, the butterflies in my stomach, the clenches in my throat, the blinding lights, the pounding bass, the sweat rolling down my neck, the pants in my ears, the cheers from the crowds, the endless flashes and clicks, the moans from his mouth, the words spoken with his lips, the warm skin under mine, the eyes when they looked into mine, the tears in the eyes when they said goodbye, the three words I could never say, the things I said instead, the blank walls, the bent script in my hands, the silence, the darkness, the echoing notes, the boiling in my blood, the walls that were old but I thought were new, the freedom that was never mine, the freedom that was yours. 

 

I exhale, plunging the knife into one of your emotionless, endless, golden eyes. 

 

You gasp before a scream escapes your lips. I push the blade in as far as it can go, the squelching sound doing nothing to deter me, and I keep pushing until the only thing I can hear are my own ragged breaths. Your limp body falls back, the blood spurting and spreading from where the blade doesn’t stop. 

 

“I hate you,” I say to no one, “That’s what I would write. I hate you.”

 

My senses are dull when I stand up and step over your body, I can’t feel the smooth device under my fingers when I unlock the screen, scroll down to his name in my contacts, push call and press it to my ear. 

 

It’s cold. 

 

I swallow, my heart is in beat with the ringtone and nearly stops when it does. 

 

“Jongin,” I breathe. 

 

There’s the sound of rustling followed by a sharp inhale before a beep blares in my ears. He hung up. 

 

Jaw clenched, I chuck the cell at the white walls before falling to my knees. I pull at my hair and let out a blood curdling scream. I don’t know how long I sit there on achy knees; clawing at myself, screaming my throat raw, crying until there’s no tears left. 

 

I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. Why did you never tell him you loved him? Why couldn’t you say fucking three words? I hate you. I hate myself. I hate us. 

 

“Hyung,” a voice calls. I slowly lift my weary head to find Jongin beaming at me, eye-smiles and all. My lips begin to curve upward at the sight of him. His fluffy brown locks, tan skin, thick lips and long legs; I had missed them all so much. 

 

“Jongin,” I croak, rubbing at my red eyes, “Jongin, I’m sorry. I’m sorry we said those things to you.”

 

He kneels in front of me, bringing a finger to my lips as he free hand smooths back my hair. “It’s ok, hyung. I forgive you. I love you, remember? And you love me.”

 

A part of me screams to let go, but the sight of Jongin, the sound, the feeling of Jongin is too much. I want to drown in him. I never want this numbing feeling to end. I’m compliant as he pulls me to my feet and guides me to the smooth tiles of the bathroom. Bending over he turns on the hot water for the bath, the steam soon surrounds him. 

 

“Hyung,” he’s not facing me, his hand is testing the temperature of the water, I opt to lean against the sink watching him, “Hyung, were you trying to kill yourself?”

 

My hand grips the sink, turning the knuckles white, I find myself staring at the floor. “I…I was.”

 

The sound of water splashing is his response, some of it spills onto the floor. “Come here, hyung, a bath would help you relax.”

 

Precarious, small steps are taken towards him, my gaze focussed on his smiling lips. I stop before the tub, staring at his dressed state, the wet clothes tight against his body. He tilts his head up at me and pats his lap. “C’mon, hyung, join me. You can keep your clothes on. We can afford them, why not wear them all the time?”

 

Nodding, I slip into the steaming water and his lap. Jongin’s arms wrap around my waist and pull me to his toned chest; he acts as my personal cage. I lean my head back trying to get comfortable in his embrace and the wet clothes. 

 

“Close you eyes, hyung. Relax,” he presses a kiss to my forehead, his hands griping my wrists.

 

I tremble, the sensation uncomfortable. “Jongin,” I begin, my eyes still closed, “you stopped calling me hyung years ago."

 

He hums as a streak of searing pain travels up my arm, I screech, flailing in his grasp, but his grip only tightens around my core. “I thought I told you to relax, Kyungsoo,” he whispers in my ear, pain enveloping my other arm as well. 

 

I open my eyes, head titled back and find a familiar face: my own. My own with golden eyes. 

 

I smile at myself, gums showing and all. “I told you, Kyungsoo, I want what you want,” I press a kiss to my forehead, “I love you more than you could ever know."

 

 

***

 

** Day 0 **

 

 

Two individuals with golden eyes stare at one another as they sit on a park bench. No one seems to notice them despite it being broad daylight.

 

The first is a short, stout man with wrinkles carving out their face. Their hair is thinning and graying, their nose gigantic and sharp. The smile lines of the cheeks and the worry lines of the forehead seem to contradict each other. The caucasian face does’t look particularly attractive, but it was a face loved by many…missed by many. 

 

The second is also a short man, but much more youthful, with plump heart-shaped lips and big doe eyes. There are no wrinkles to be found, but with time there would have been many. Their shoulders are not broad, but their posture only emanates confidence and power…a sight not commonly seen before they were dear and departed. 

 

The older speaks first, “I never thought I would find you over here in the middle of fucking nowhere. Did Hollywood bore you with its dramatics? Rock stars not edgy enough anymore?” 

 

The young boy smirks.  “I wanted a challenge. Fame…passion…desire…I wanted to experience it in a different setting, one I wasn’t used to dominating.” He plays with the green gemstone is his hand. It’s perfectly round and smooth.

 

“Was it worth it for only that?” golden eyes sneer at the small stone, “It’s nothing compared to your last catch. That thing was enormous; you could have survived on it for centuries, people are still mourning the loss of that human.”

 

The boy turns it over in his hand, studying the way the sun reflects off it. “It’s not a bad catch. The singing was good, there’s even a bit of acting on it. I know acting tends to be your preferred area, but there’s nothing wrong with expanding your horizons; it could come in handy for future prospects- oh!” The boy turns, a spiteful smile on his lips. “He had the sight.”

 

The old man frowns, “You lucky fucker. I haven’t had one of those in years. It’s much more entertaining when they know you’re there,” he sighs, tapping his fingers on the bench railing, “what are you going to do next? After such wonderful prey?”

 

The boy’s golden eyes flicker, full of mirth. “What we always do. I already found my next one.”

 

“What type?” the elder grumbles. 

 

“A beautiful boy with a voice meant for the angels, a human by the name of Kim Jongdae.”

 

“Doesn’t sound particularly memorable,” the man retorts. 

 

“Don’t worry,” the young man crosses his legs, smirking, “It will be."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You's Forms: Kurt Cobain, Junsu, Bada, Sohee, Angelina Jolie, Jongin, Heath Ledger, Kyungsoo and Robin Williams
> 
> "You" is symbolic of something...
> 
> I can't believe I did that to Jongdae at the end...he's my favorite 0.0
> 
> Thanks for reading if you did :D


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